


Saqqara Simmer

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Co-workers, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Originally written in July 2007, Romance, Sexual Tension, Travel, non-canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:52:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4429115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Saqqara assignment is complicated, but between the heat, the runes, and the close quarters, Bill and Hermione have to make room for communication.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saqqara Simmer

**Author's Note:**

> _Originally Posted: Jul 27, 2007_

The late afternoon sun made it feel twenty degrees hotter than the actual temperature. And Saqqara during mid-July was warm enough without the added heat of the sun. Add in the humidity, which was worse in this part of Egypt during the middle of the year, and it felt like a furnace, which was why routines had been altered to include an early dinner with work for a few hours after. It was cooler when the sun began to go down, after all, so it was a logical adjustment of schedules to suit the working conditions.  
  
It had been two weeks since they'd arrived in Cairo and taken a boat down the Nile to meet their contact for the ride to Saqqara. It was too difficult to simply Apparate into the area without having been there before, so they’d had to travel the Muggle way. The camel ride had certainly been an experience, but Hermione had to say that automobiles were much more comfortable. When they’d arrived in the ancient city of Saqqara, an immense necropolis west of the Old Kingdom capital of Memphis, she had been thrilled to find a Wizarding tent waiting for them. It hadn’t been until after a shower and nap that she’d realized the exact nature of her living conditions for the next eight to ten weeks, depending on the time it took to complete the assignment.  
  
When she had traveled for Gringotts in the past, she and her partner, who usually varied from assignment to assignment since her official partner had transferred to a new department three years ago, had always had separate living quarters. Whether it was a rented room or even a small tent to themselves, there had always been privacy for the duration of the assignment. The idea of having to share a tent, even a fully equipped wizarding one, left her agitated and fidgety.  
  
Of course, this was the first time in her eight years with Gringotts that she’d been given such a complex task, as most were difficult but brief, and this was going to be more of a long-term assignment compared to the five to ten days it generally took, since usually most of the work occurred in the library and office before ever actually going to the location. In fact, the majority of her work didn’t require leaving the main offices in London; her specialty in runes meant most of what she dealt with were related to those, or small (portable) cursed objects. Still, she could break curses better than most of the department, so she was occasionally sent into the field when something required her areas of expertise on site. The Saqqara assignment was quite a coup, and her partner was someone with whom she’d worked a few times in the past, though never in the field.  
  
It really shouldn’t have bothered her to be sharing space with Bill Weasley, especially considering their past history, and she wasn’t entirely sure why she didn’t feel comfortable living in the same tent with him, so she had done her best to adapt to the situation. They had settled relatively well during the last couple of weeks, though living and working in such close proximity with him was rather trying.  
  
They had become friends during the war. He had moved from ‘Ron’s clever older brother’ to ‘subject of teenage infatuation’ to ‘friend’ relatively quickly. The infatuation hadn’t lasted very long, thankfully, and she’d soon been distracted by confusing feelings for Ron while Bill had become engaged and then married to Fleur Delacour. Their marriage lasted longer than her relationship with Ron, but it had ended in divorce not long after the war.  
  
During those rough months, Hermione had provided a shoulder, making sure Bill didn’t lose himself in a pint, which had been a concern despite the divorce being amicable. Fortunately, Bill had moved past that minor depression by the time the papers were signed to make it official. In the years since, they had become closer, occasionally sharing a meal during late nights at the office or working on assignments together, but she hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on past crushes or present attraction. Life was full enough without adding unrequited feelings for a man who only saw her as a friend and still acted like she was sixteen instead of just a couple of years shy of thirty.  
  
That resolution was much easier to keep when she saw him at work or for a few hours socially every couple of weeks. Sharing just about every waking moment with him, even quiet time in the late evenings when she read, was something else entirely. She had seen him cooking while humming an old Hobgoblins tune, and first thing in the morning when he’d left the bath wearing just a towel around his slender hips, and during the middle of a hot afternoon with his hair damp from sweat as he cursed at the tomb and threw a tanty worthy of a five year-old. It would be easy to blame the heat of the sun for making her blood race and her body feel feverish, but she recognized old-fashioned lust when she felt it.  
  
It was dangerous because it hadn’t even been two weeks, and she was already feeling that restless tension that she hadn’t experienced in far too many years to count. There wasn’t just friendship at stake, though; there was also a very good working relationship that couldn’t be jeopardized. Work was a great distraction. It was challenging and difficult, to say the least, so it left little free time for her mind to wander or for indulgence in daydreams. Night wasn’t as easy, especially when she was lying in her bed, body sticky with sweat, wishing cooling charms wouldn’t risk the integrity of the old magic they were studying. When her room was cast in shadows and the only sounds were the soft whir of a fan and night noises caused by a sleepless Bill, she’d close her eyes and move her hands instinctively, biting her lip when she finally shuddered and found release.  
  
She groaned softly, knowing this wasn’t the time or place for such thoughts. There were translations to finish, and, as enjoyable as fantasies could be, they weren’t going to help decipher the complex language covering the stone tablets before her. This time, she _could_ blame the sun, as it was very strong today and she hadn’t taken a break in awhile.  
  
“Your skin is turning red.”  
  
The sound of his voice pulled her from her heat-induced haze as another sort of heat spread over her. She looked up and blinked, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the sun so she could see him. It really wasn’t fair that he looked so unaffected by the heat. His long hair was neatly tied back with a strip of leather, his white cotton shirt had several buttons unfastened, and his khakis were neatly pressed despite the work she knew he’d been doing at the entrance of the tomb. In contrast, her hair was frizzy from the humidity, not staying pinned up at all despite her efforts, her T-shirt was damp with sweat and sticking to her back and chest, and the crisp pair of linen shorts that she’d put on that morning were wrinkled and covered in stone dust.  
  
“I should hate you,” she informed him matter-of-factly. “You look like you’ve been lounging on a yacht while I’ve been playing in dirt.”  
  
When she saw the lazy smile cross his lips, she felt her tummy flip even as she prepared for a smart-arse comment. She wasn’t disappointed when he said, “What can I say? Some of us are just naturally perfect.” He smirked and stretched, reaching his arms to the sky in a way that caused his shirt to ride up and flash a flat belly, which was quite distracting. “Besides, you couldn’t hate me, Hermione Jane. You could, however, burn too much to be any use for a couple of days, so I think you should take a break.”  
  
“Don’t call me that, William Gideon,” she muttered. Her skin did feel warm, but she wasn’t at all sure whether that was due to the sun’s heat or being around Bill. She dropped her hand and glanced at the tablet she was working on. “I need to finish up here first. I’m nearly done with this line of translation, though I’m beginning to wish that Nisoron hadn’t been quite so clever and prolific. Between you and me, I think the ruddy prat just liked to hear himself talk.”  
  
“How’s it going then?” Bill asked as he sat beside her on the bench and peered over her shoulder to read her notes. She swatted at him and scowled when he just laughed and continued reading.  
  
“It’s very rude to read over someone’s shoulder, you know.”  
  
“Yes, it is.”  
  
She looked at him pointedly and tried not to notice just how close he was sitting or how he smelled. “Ahem.”  
  
He turned his head to look at her, so close that she wouldn’t even have to shift too much for their lips to touch, and slowly blinked. His eyes were such a beautiful shade of blue that she could easily lose herself just looking into them. The scars on his face had faded some over the years, but the skin was still coarse and craggy and the wounds were still deep. He’d stopped wearing his hair down to cover them years ago, and no longer seemed to consider them a flaw. She was glad because she thought they were beautiful in their rugged harshness.  
  
Instead of making a teasing quip, he just looked at her for several moments longer than was probably polite before he quickly stood up. He looked around and rubbed his hands on his thighs before he glanced at her. “Get out of the heat, Granger,” he said gruffly before stalking back to the tomb.  
  
After he left, she stared after him for several moments, wondering what had just happened. Finally, she stood up and stretched before going into their tent to get a bottle of cold water and to stand in front of the fan. She’d obviously had too much sun.  


**************************

  
  
The tension was becoming palpable. For the last three days, Bill had been behaving terribly. He was demanding and bad-tempered, snapping all the time about everything from the coffee not being hot enough to the tomb being too hot, and kept alternating between giving her so many things to do that she couldn’t keep up and telling her to get out of the heat so she’d not get sick. He was also avoiding her, which was obvious considering they were the only two people on-site. They no longer took meals together, he worked in the tomb while giving her assignments that kept her near the tent, and there were no more lazy conversations late at night when they’d finished work for the day.  
  
It was difficult enough to have to share space with someone else without adding an irritable attitude to the mix. Considering the attraction she’d also been dealing with, she was even more on edge now than before. If she understood why he’d changed, it might not be frustrating. But she couldn’t think of anything, and she’d definitely tried since she’d realized he was acting differently.  
  
While she knew there had been minor side effects following the attack by Greyback, he’d only mentioned an increased appetite and insomnia during the phases of the full moon. Besides, it was still two weeks before another full moon, and he’d not been too different during the last one, so she didn’t think it was anything related to that injury. Of course, if it couldn’t be blamed on those side effects, that meant she’d done something to upset him or he was having other issues or maybe he was just being a prat.  
  
Regardless, the situation was becoming unbearable. If she’d done something, she wanted to know so she could either stop doing it or tell him to bugger off. If he was having problems, she wanted him to know he could talk to her, which he bloody well should know considering those months during his divorce. And if he was just being a prat, she wanted to hex him and tell him to grow up. However, she couldn’t do anything if he refused to talk to her, which was exasperating.  
  
After letting things stew for a few days, she'd finally had enough. Perhaps the heat had driven her mad or maybe she was just tired of being treated like she had the plague by a good friend. All she knew was that it was time to do something drastic. With that decision made, she quickly thought up a plan. Instead of waiting until dinner, she set her quill down beside the current tablet she was translating and stood up, knowing well enough that she’d analyze until she decided not to do something so daring or bold.  
  
Bill was working on breaking the complex curse that protected a stone sarcophagus, one of many, inside the tomb, and he hadn’t been out of the tomb for hours. The sun was high in the sky, and it had been terribly hot all day. It was the hottest July in years, according to their local contact, so it was time for him to take a break; whether he liked it or not. She picked up a bottle of water, straightened her shoulders, and started for the pyramid. If he refused to speak with her, she’d just have to make him.  
  
The tomb was cooler than she expected, especially since there were no cooling charms. The shade from the sun must help, she supposed, or perhaps Nisoron hadn’t wanted to be hot in the great beyond. She tilted her head slightly and focused on the feel of the room as she tried to determine if there was a spell used or not. Bill was standing near a wall with an open book in front of him while he mumbled to himself and moved his wand in an intricate pattern. After taking a deep breath for courage, she stepped further inside the tomb, careful of any traps or curses that hadn’t yet been broken.  
  
“What are you doing here?”  
  
Bill’s voice was low and sharp, making her jump slightly at the unexpected question. He hadn’t given any indication that he knew she was there, not even a turn of the head, so she hadn’t realized he’d hear her. “It’s hot, so I’ve brought you water,” she said firmly, not letting his snarl scare her away.  
  
“If I’d wanted water, I’d have got it myself, Granger.”  
  
“Are you making any progress?” she asked, ignoring his rudeness as she stepped closer to peer at the sarcophagus. “I can analyze it, if you’re not. I’m here because of my knowledge in runes, after all. I could probably help weaken the foundation, at least, and then you could slowly break the rest.”  
  
“I’m making progress. It just takes time,” he said. “Your knowledge of languages is also one reason you’re here, which is why you’ve been working with the tablets.”  
  
“Yes, but I can help here,” she pointed out as she continued studying the sarcophagus. “Because I’ve been translating the tablets, I have more insight into Nisoron, so I know what types of magic he seemed to be most fond of using. Or bragging about using.”  
  
“I’ve been doing this since you before you even got a wand, so I think I’m qualified to break a complex curse. Go back to your tablets, Granger, and let me work.”  
  
She turned to glare at him. “I’m here because of my ability, _Weasley_. I couldn’t care less how long you’ve been breaking curses because my experience, in a shorter time, has put me at the top of our department. I’ve been breaking curses since I was twelve, so don’t even try pulling the age card on me. Understood? I’m not a weak, defenseless woman who can only translate instead of dealing with more dangerous things, either. I don’t know what’s crawled up your arse, but it needs to be dealt with because this is an important assignment, and I won’t let you jeopardize it because you’re acting like a moody wanker who doesn’t need help.”  
  
“I’ve never said you were weak or incompetent. You wouldn’t be here now if you were. I can handle this on my own, though, so you need to finish your assignment before trying to interfere with mine,” he said tightly. “As for the rest, my arse is none of your concern, nor would I ever put a mission at risk over something personal. It’s unprofessional, as is name-calling. If you’re attempting to show your maturity, you might rethink your behavior because you sound like a sullen child who isn’t getting her way.”  
  
“Me?” She gaped at him for a moment before she recovered. “I’m not the one who has been snapping and storming around camp for days, and I’m not the one avoiding and ignoring you for no reason at all. I was worried, so I came here to find out what was wrong and thought I’d offer to help in case you were frustrated about the curse. However, it’s obvious that I’m not wanted here, so I’ll run along back to my tablets.” She leaned down and slammed the bottle of water on the bench beside him. “And here’s your water.”  
  
She curled her fingers into her palms as she turned around and started towards the entrance of the tomb, feeling angrier than she had in a long time. Even worse, underlying the anger was arousal and a heated passion that her nearly shaking with each step. She was halfway to the door when long fingers suddenly gripped her shoulder and pulled her back.  
  
“Frustrated over a curse?” he growled as he shoved her against the stone wall of the pyramid hard. “Not even you’re that oblivious, Hermione Jane. You know perfectly well why I’ve been avoiding you and why I’m frustrated. You keep looking at me with those big brown eyes and wetting your lips, practically begging for me to fuck you until you’re screaming, and you have the audacity to play dumb? It doesn’t suit you at all.”  
  
“What are you talking about? I have not!” she protested, feeling her cheeks flush with color at the thought that she’d been that obvious when she thought she’d hidden her desire so well. Bill was pressed close against her as he held her against the wall, and he was flushed, too, as he breathed hard and glared down at her. His hair had come loose from the strap, so it framed his face as he tightened his grip on her arms.  
  
“You’re doing it now,” he accused gruffly. Before she could deny the accusation, he lowered his head and kissed her.  
  
It wasn’t like she’d imagined during the lazy nights of fantasies. There was nothing gentle or tender about it at all. It was hard and rough, almost bruising, and she shivered as he pressed his lips more firmly against hers. She reached up to push him away, knowing this wasn’t what she wanted-not him angry and taking it out on her-but when she put her hands on his chest, she gripped his shirt instead of pushing.  
  
He bit her lips, not nibbling but bites that made her gasp and arch off the wall towards him. He slid his tongue into her mouth and deepened the kiss while he moved his hand down her arm around behind her. He squeezed her arse, capturing her yelp of surprise with his mouth, and she stopped trying to fight because she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want this. She moved her hand into his hair, pulling on it a bit more roughly than she normally might, and returned the kiss, letting him know that she wasn’t a submissive little girl that he could control.  
  
This was all new to her. She’d had sex a few times, but it had been normal with a little foreplay and occasionally an orgasm that she didn’t have to cause herself. It had never felt this exciting and dangerous, this rough and desperate, and she felt overwhelmed at the emotion and need she felt right now. Bill moved his leg between hers, pressing his thigh against her in a way that made her toes curl.  
  
“Like that, do you?” he breathed against her lips. “Been wanting this for weeks. Wanting to be fucked hard, to beg and scream, to make me lose control, haven’t you? I tried to stay away, tried to resist, didn’t want to hurt you, but I’m too weak. Wanna make you scream.”  
  
“For years,” she whispered before his lips covered hers, muffling the admission as he kissed her. He moved his hand beneath her shirt, shoving it over her breasts along with her bra. His palm was rough against her sensitive skin as he squeezed her breast hard, tweaking her nipple until she whimpered. He rocked against her, pressing his erection against her leg on each thrust forward. She moved her hand beneath his shirt, stroking his spine and shoulderblades while she pulled on his hair with the other hand.  
  
Everything happened so fast after that. One minute, he was kissing her and the next, he had shoved her shorts and knickers down around her ankles and was unzipping his trousers. The stone of the pyramid rubbed against her bare bottom and lower back, scraping her skin raw as he shoved her back against it, and it was so hot, the cool dissipating around them as they kissed. She gasped when he unceremoniously pushed two fingers inside her and scratched his back hard.  
  
“So fucking wet, so bloody tight,” he muttered as he kissed her jaw and neck. Hearing him talking like this was surprising, as he didn’t curse that often, but it seemed to suit the brutal urgency of the moment. And she _was_ wet, despite the bruising grip and coarse stone, and she hadn’t even considered saying no because she wanted him, had wanted him for years. It wasn’t anything like she’d imagined, but it was real and that was what mattered.  
  
It had been a few years since she’d had a lover, so she wasn’t prepared when he thrust fully inside her. It hurt, just an ache as she stretched to accommodate him, and she closed her eyes and bit her lip hard to keep from crying out. He groaned against her neck and squeezed her breast harder as he began to move. She felt his hand on her arse before he lifted her, and she instinctively moved her legs around his waist for balance. He began to drive into her harder, and the ache faded as she rocked against him, meeting his thrusts as she ground against him.  
  
When he suddenly bit her neck hard enough to make a mark, she gasped and tightened around his cock. His hips began to move with more force, in and out, until he grunted and shuddered against her. She felt his cock pulse before he spilled inside her, jerking his hips until he was spent. She shifted, trying to get the friction she desperately needed, but he stopped moving and panted against her shoulder. She whined, annoyed and frustrated, and reached between them, stroking her clit until she tensed and came with a low moan.  
  
Her moan seemed to wake him out of his sated daze. He raised his head and looked at her, and she could see the change come over him, feeling cold suddenly as he looked horrified. He pulled out of her and set her down, running his hand through his hair as he stepped back. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to cover up as he continued to look at her in such a disgusted way. Oh god. She hadn’t wanted this. Not this reaction, like he couldn’t believe he’d touched her and wanted to be anywhere but here.  
  
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have---“ He stammered in a manner so unlike him that she wished the floor would just open up and swallow her. She looked up at him and watched him tuck his cock back into his shorts before he zipped his trousers. He caught her looking and flinched. “Fucking hell. I’ll just---I’ll go.”  
  
Without giving her a chance to say anything, he turned and left the tomb. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, wishing she had her Time Turner so she could go back and fix this mess. This was one thing they couldn’t blame on the heat of the sun, and it had changed everything.  
  
After taking a moment to compose herself as best she could, she summoned the bottle of water and used it to clean herself off because charms never worked well when it came to this sort of clean up. She murmured a drying charm before carefully pulling her knickers and shorts back on. Her back was sore, there was an ‘I’ve just been shagged’ ache between her legs, and she knew she’d have bruises on her breasts and hips by that night. Instead of going back to the tablets, she sat on the bench and studied the sarcophagus, needing something challenging to distract her from what had just happened.  


**************************

  
  
It was nearly midnight before Bill came back.  
  
After Hermione had worked on the sarcophagus for a couple of hours, she’d left the tomb to find the camp empty. She’d rushed to the tent to check his room, relaxing when she saw that his stuff was still there, but she’d spent the entire night worried about him and angry at him for not staying and scared that this had changed everything between them. When she finally heard him enter the tent, she kept her attention on her book, feeling more uncertain than she had in a long time.  
  
She heard the door close quietly and listened to his footsteps as he walked into the sitting room area of the tent. He stopped walking, and the silence was almost deafening before he said, “I’m sorry.”  
  
Those weren’t the words she wanted to hear. She looked up from her book and smiled as bravely as possible, hoping it looked casual and unaffected. “Whatever for?” she asked. “We’re both consenting adults, Bill, and we didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s just say that the heat got to us and forget about it.”  
  
He frowned and shook his head. “You’re lying,” he said simply. “Don’t think that I can’t tell, Hermione Jane. We had sex. It was rough and you got hurt. You can’t sit there looking all pretty and distant and expect me to believe that you aren’t feeling _something_.”  
  
“It really doesn’t matter, does it? You accused me of behaving like a child, but you’re the one who got scared and ran away,” she pointed out quietly. “I could have stopped you at any time. You might be bigger and stronger, but I’m certainly able to defend myself. I didn’t, though, because I wanted you to look at me as if I were a woman instead of just a friend. Yes, it did get rough and I did get hurt, but the physical bruises didn’t sting nearly as much as the look on your face when we finished. So forgive me if I have no desire to discuss how disgusted you are at having shagged me.”  
  
“Disgusted?” He laughed sharply and crossed the sitting room to where she was sitting on the sofa. “I was _not_ disgusted at having been with you, you foolish little girl. I was angry with myself for losing control like that, for hurting someone that I care about. You just kept pushing and wouldn’t leave and you were so bloody prissy when you got annoyed, and I’d been thinking about nothing but fucking you for days, it felt like, so I just snapped.”  
  
“I’m not a little girl,” she said sharply. “I think that was proven this afternoon. Why didn’t you stay and explain then? Why did you leave?” _Why did you make me feel unwanted?_  
  
“I don’t know,” he admitted. He sank to his knees in front of her and bowed his head, hiding behind his hair. “I was scared, all right? I---you make me feel things that I didn’t plan on ever feeling again. Fleur left me for many reasons but one of the main ones was because I was too rough. I hurt her, you see, and I just saw you standing there and realized that I’d fucked up again and hurt someone else that I care about, and it scared me. And you’re my best friend, you know, besides Charlie, and I thought I’d lost that---lost you.”  
  
“I didn’t realize…well, I guess that’s not something you’re likely to share with many people since it’s so personal, but I didn’t know. I just thought you didn't want me,” she murmured. “Bill, I hurt you, too. Scratches on your back and bites on your neck. It was rather primal, you know? I mean, I’ve never---not like that---and we just let go, I suppose.” She reached out to grip his chin and force him to look up at her. “You haven’t lost me.”  
  
“Yeah, it was,” he agreed, smirking slightly before he sighed. “I wanted you, Hermione. I mean, I _want_ you. But, fuck, I didn’t even take care of you. So focused on myself, like a teenager getting his first shag. Bloody embarrassing, that. I’m not usually so selfish.”  
  
She had to laugh. “After everything that’s happened today, you’re main concern is the fact that your reputation might be tarnished? Such an arrogant arse.”  
  
“It’s not my main concern,” he denied. “ _Us_ is my main concern. But, well, I’m a bloke, Hermione Jane! We care about that sort of thing, Miss I’ll Just Do It Myself.”  
  
“Hmph. It’s a good thing that I _can_ do it myself, obviously,” she said smugly. Her smile faded slightly as she looked at him. “You mentioned us. This has changed things, hasn’t it?”  
  
“Of course it has. How could it not? I’ve been buried inside you, after all, though I didn’t make you scream my name as intended.”  
  
“Stop being so crass. I’m trying to be serious here.”  
  
“Years.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“When I said that you’d wanted me for weeks, you said it was years. I didn’t pay attention at the time because all I wanted was to be inside you, but when I was walking tonight, I remembered. Did you mean that?”  
  
She considered denying it but couldn’t lie to him. Instead, she nodded. “I meant it.”  
  
“Fuck. Why didn’t you ever, I don’t know, flirt or leer or something? I know that I’m brilliant and devastatingly handsome, but it does help a bloke to be given signs that can’t be missed.”  
  
“You’re also extremely modest,” she said dryly. “Besides, you didn’t want to see signs. You were divorced and had your pick of women, which I seem to remember you enjoying for awhile there.”  
  
“I like sex, and they were willing, but it was never more than that,” he said. His expression was more open than it had been in a week, and she knew he was telling her the truth.  
  
“And how was I to know that you’d not just accept what I was willingly offering, just like those women, and then everything would be ruined for our friendship?”  
  
“Because you’re not some random bird who wants the danger of shagging a bloke scarred up like I am or who wants to have sex with no strings. You’re Hermione Jane, and more special than any of them.”  
  
“You didn’t want strings, Bill. You wanted freedom, and, well, like you said. I’m not casual. I mean, I’ll be fine with what happened this afternoon. I know it wasn’t more than the heat and lust.”  
  
“You know, you don’t know everything,” he pointed out, raising his hand to stroke her cheek. He gently traced her lips with his thumb and smirked. “It bothers you when you don’t know something, doesn’t it? The thing is, I did a lot of thinking during my little running away stunt and I realized a few things. I can’t say that I’ve wanted you for years because it’s been more like a few days since I admitted to myself that I was attracted to you and wanted more than just friendly teasing and platonic hugs. I can definitely say that I rarely ever talk this much, especially about emotions and shite, so don’t go expecting a lot of sensitivity and heart-to-heart talks because it won’t be happening. Communication is important, yeah, but words aren’t always necessary like you seem to think.”  
  
“Words are very important,” she protested, not exactly sure where he was headed with his speech but having to interrupt at least once to contradict him.  
  
“Shush,” he said. “I’m talking here. I’m not perfect, far from it, and I’ve got a temper and a foul mouth, especially in the bedroom, and won’t hesitate to spank your cute little arse if you scold me for cursing all the time instead of apologizing like my baby brother does. I also like to fuck, hard and rough with biting and bruises, but I can make love, too. Gentle and teasing until you’re begging for release. I take longer to get ready in the mornings than you and my hair is much prettier, though I love your wild curls, especially when they’re frizzy from the heat and humidity because I just want to touch then.” To illustrate his point, he reached his free hand up to brush through her hair before dropping it back to rest on her leg, where he began to draw circles on her inner thigh with his fingers.  
  
Hermione shifted and licked her lips, frowning thoughtfully at him. “It sounds like you’re putting together a CV. Are you planning to apply for a job somewhere?”  
  
“I’m just being thorough. I was Head Boy, you know? They didn’t just give that honor to anyone. You’re not the only one who can be organized and clever.” He smirked. “Maybe I’ve decided that strings, when held by you, wouldn’t be so bad after all.”  
  
“Oh? Oh!” She blinked at him and smiled shyly before she arched a brow and told him, “Well, in that case, I should let you know that I won’t tolerate personal issues interfering with work, like they did earlier. I’m capable and qualified, and I was able to help with the sarcophagus using my runes. Strings or not, our private relationship can't interfere with our working one.”  
  
“I was an arse,” he agreed. “We work well together, Granger. Whatever happens between us, that won’t change and I wouldn’t want it to. You’re the best partner I’ve had during my time at Gringotts, and I thought that even before I kissed you. And I want to hear about the runes---tomorrow. Right now, what do you say about strings and seeing what happens?”  
  
"Well, I think it sounds rather kinky, though I suppose bondage might be interesting, so long as you're the one tied up," she said thoughtfully. At his surprised look, she smiled smugly. “Seriously, strings sound good, if you’re sure and this isn’t just some noble reaction to what happened this afternoon.”  
  
“It’s not a noble act, it’s not temporary insanity, it’s not the heat’s fault, and it’s not something I’d even consider lightly,” he said. “I think I could love you, Hermione Jane. Will you give me a chance to find out?”  
  
“Yes,” she said, smiling as she leaned up to brush her lips against his. She pulled back and smirked slightly. “Though, I must admit that I might change my mind if you make it a habit of leaving me to take care of myself.”  
  
“I’m never going to live that one down, am I?” he asked, leaning forward to kiss her far more thoroughly before he pulled back and stood up. “I guess the only thing I can do is make sure that you’re far too satisfied to ever tell anyone else, especially my brothers.”  
  
"Oh, honestly, Bill. Do you really think that I'm going to discuss my sex life with any of your brothers? Charlie would tease me as well as you, Percy would avoid speaking to me again, the twins would ask for details, and Ron would turn bright red before fainting," she pointed out matter-of-factly. "If I told them anything, it would be that you failed to complete your work and left it all for me---what are you doing?"  
  
He bent down and picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder before she could even smack him for daring to do such a thing.  
  
“Put me down, William Gideon Weasley!”  
  
“Make me,” he challenged in that smug but sexy voice and swatted her arse. “I believe I mentioned something about making up this afternoon to you. If you don’t stop squirming, I’ll forget my resolution and just take you right here on the floor of the tent, which wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable as the bed.”  
  
She reached down and pinched his arse, hard, smiling when he groaned, but she did stop squirming. And he kept his promise. Three times before morning.  
  
End


End file.
